


Blizzard

by blitzturtles



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Episode VII: The Force Awakens (2015)
Genre: Cold, Cold Weather, Cuddling & Snuggling, F/F, Femslash February, Huddling For Warmth, Hurt/Comfort
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-19
Updated: 2016-02-19
Packaged: 2018-05-21 14:51:55
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 531
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6055636
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/blitzturtles/pseuds/blitzturtles
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Rey gets caught in a horrendous snow storm. Help should have come hours ago, and she's all but certain she won't make it much longer.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Blizzard

Rey curls more tightly into herself, doing whatever she can to reserve body heat. It’s cold. Too cold. She spent years enduring the cool desert nights of Jakku on her own, but this isn’t quite the same. Her body is rapidly succumbing to the freezing air. What little protection she has on is torn from battle and wear. Her fingers and toes have gone numb, while her face continues to burn from the wind seemingly tearing at her skin.

Her eyes drift shut for the umpteenth time. She tries to shake off the fatigue, knowing she must stay awake if she has any chance at survival. At the same time, she knows that help should have come long ago.

Rey is startled awake when something brushes against her. Her eyes snap open, making her hiss in pain from the burn that follows.

“Be still,” someone orders from behind her.

A solid thirty seconds pass before Rey even dares to defy the order. The voice is authoritative. Strong and unaffected by the miserable blizzard that seems to never end.

“Who are you?” Rey says. Or tries to say. The words come out mushed together in a way that isn’t at all comprehensible.

She gets laughed at for her effort. Any other time, and she might be offended, but she’s being pulled close to a warm body with strong arms. The voice is female. She can recognize that much. The arms are long and covered in some sort of black cloth.

Rey tries to resist blatantly cuddling into the warmth, but her resolve fades rapidly. The woman, whoever she is, is soft and comforting. She tries to squirm, wanting nothing more than to press her face against the fabric, but her efforts are stopped with ease with arms that tighten around her to keep her from moving.

“With the windburn that you appear to have, I would not suggest attempting to touch anything to your face until proper treatment can be administered,” the woman explains as if she can read Rey’s thoughts. More likely, she picks up on Rey’s distress at being denied something so simple.

Rey wants to protest. She has about two dozen questions that come and go rapidly. None of which she manages to vocalize. Every thought ultimately gets pushed to the back of her mind in favor of enjoying the little bit of relief she gets from stealing the stranger’s body heat. 

Then there are fingers in her hair, and her eyes slide closed.

The next time she opens her eyes, she finds herself in the familiar MedBay of the Resistance base, feeling comparatively better, though the post-submerged feeling after any length of time in a bacta tank isn’t ever pleasant.

She almost forgets about the woman. Wonders if, perhaps, she had been nothing more than a hallucination her mind had created in an effort to ease her suffering. That is until Rey reaches up to brush the lose strands of her hair from her face. Her fingers brush against something unfamiliar. She realizes two things in that moment. One, that she can feel her fingers again, and two, that the clip in her hair is not her own.


End file.
